


Fun With Sexting

by TactheJoker



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-19 04:14:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TactheJoker/pseuds/TactheJoker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At an important presentation, Hunter receives a text from a friend...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fun With Sexting

Hunter stood in the back, behind the cameras and curtains, listening to his boss discuss this past year of the WWE, its successes and failures, and hinting at the direction they were planning on going for next year. He didn’t outright tell the audience – that would be Hunter’s job, but Vince still had a bit in his speech to go before he introduced his second-in-command – not that Hunter minded. Vince was getting the responsive crowd warmed up. 

Jarring him out of his focus, in his pocket his phone vibrated against his thigh. ‘Oops,’ he thought. ‘Thought I turned you off.’

He pulled it out and looked at the lit-up screen.

Mark C  
New Text

He opened his phone, intending to read and turn of right after, but that idea was abandoned after he read the short but very much to-the-point text.

_'I want inside you.'_

Hunter felt arousal shoot into his groin and let out an audible gasp; his cock throbbed with excitement as he re-read the four-letter message.

_'I want inside you.'_

His phone vibrated in his hand, more jarring than the first and made his heart beat so loud he was sure they could hear it up front – incoming text.

_'I want to touch you.'_

Hurriedly, mindful of his boss’s speech nearing its end, he texted back.

_'Not now, about to go on.'_

Send. A moment later, vibration: Incoming text

_'Don’t care, want to be in you. Want to kiss you down there.'_

He swallowed, his balls swelled and cock grew in response to the image of the dark head sinking down to the lush patch of light brown hair between his legs; he texted back:

_'Seriously, stop – I have to give a presentation!'_

Send. Vibration.

_'I want to put my mouth on you, want you in my mouth – you’re so delicious. Want to make you moan.'_

Vibration.

_'I like when you pump your hips fast when you’re excited for my mouth.'_

His mind flashed to the last time they were together; Mark had touched him and stroked him, only that, because he liked how Hunter undulated his hips when Mark’s big hands played between his thighs, and he couldn’t get enough of Hunter’s rapid hip-thrusts when he was stroked to cum. It was his signal that he couldn’t wait anymore for Mark’s lips and tongue – he wanted to be engulfed.

Vibration.

_'I want to suckle your nipples – always so perky, happy to see me, love putting my lips around them.’_

He felt the soft points on his chest erect with excitement at their mention and thinking of Mark’s mouth, gently teething them, kissing, his big rough hands, plucking, petting…

Vibration.

_'I want to put my fingers in you; stroke you ‘til you can’t breathe. I’ll put my hand over your mouth if you scream. You like it.'_

God, he did. He loved it when Mark brought him to the brink, and when he started making noise the big Texan would clap a hand over his mouth, catching each and every one of his cries. Sometimes he’d grab Hunter by the throat while they fucked, not choking him, but gripping, letting him know that he could. It added a forbidden element to their sex – an event that looked like it was about to turn south, but not with Mark, he knew just how far to take it.

He could almost feel that big hand covering his mouth, the thick fingers sliding over his throat… 

Vibration.

_'When I’ve got you to that point, so needy you can’t even see, I’m gonna…'_

Nothing.

Hunter waited, sweating, trembling – what the fuck was he going to do after?! 

Vibration.

_'Good luck with your presentation!'_

Hunter couldn’t believe it.

“You son of a bitch!” He hissed, and texted just that. _'You son of a bitch!'_ He hoped every word felt like poison to the damn Southerner.

“Hunter!” a stage-hand hissed to him. “You’re on in two!”

 _"Son of a bitch"_ he thought; he looked down – oh fantastic. He had a half-chub going. Hiding the stiffness in his walk as best he could he went up a little closer to the stage entrance, keeping to the shadow lest someone see the swell of happiness in his pants, trying to think of everything gross in the world to kill his arousal. He heard Vince introduce him. Shit. He looked around fast, saw the stage-hand’s folder, and snatched it out of his hands.

“I need this.” He said, ignoring the hapless man’s stunned and confused look. He walked onto the stage every ounce of his being going towards looking as natural as possible, holding the folder tastefully by his thigh, blocking the slowly lowering half-mast with it and trying at the same time to act like the folder was his and he needed it for his speech. He leaned in to give Vince a one-armed hug, keeping their groins and thighs a safe distance apart. Vince knew something was up, but had the tact to keep it to himself until the presentation was over – besides, Hunter looked fine otherwise, maybe a little flushed, but excited and ready to take on this crowd. Vice wasn’t worried. 

Hunter got behind the podium and waved and smiled to the applauding audience; he made a joke about his boss’s speech and the crowd laughed appreciatively. He eased into his part of the presentation, outlining where they were going this year, and expanding upon the changes Vince had hinted at. His body calmed down as he talked, focusing only on his own words and playing off the crowd like only he could; he was halfway through the speech when it happened. 

Vibration.

Oh shit.

His voice hitched just a tiny bit, and he felt beads of sweat break out over his forehead as his mind, unbidden, went over the texts he’d just read. He felt his body respond to his traitorous thoughts. His phone vibrated again, letting him know he had a text waiting. He plowed through his presentation; doing everything he could to focus on the task at hand and not the vibrations in his pocket, so near his groin.

Vibrate.

So damn insistent.

Vibrate.

So fucking distracting.

Vibrate.

He wanted to answer so much.

Vibrate.

Vibrate.

VIBRATE.

The last enthusiastic word left his mouth, and the audience stood up and cheered, hooting and hollering their approval. He smiled, he waved, he applauded with them, and then he grabbed the folder and hurried back behind the curtain. He tossed the folder back to the stage-hand and kept walking until he was in the men’s bathroom. Once away from the audience and the techs he doubled-over and gave in to the strain his cock was putting on him, letting out a loud groan. Thank goodness no one was in the restroom to hear him; he grabbed the damn phone out of his pocket, still vibrating, came close to smashing it under his foot he was so pissed off, and read Mark’s single word text.

_'Lol'_

“OH FUCK YOU!” He cried, his voice echoing in the bathroom. He couldn’t believe it! That was it?! That was the text that was causing his raging boner? That was what he ran back here for? LOL?! 

“You fucker! You-you fuck! You-Arrrrgg!! Fuck you!”

“Promise?”

He whipped around and saw Mark Callaway, the God-damn Undertaker, peering into the restroom, dressed in old blue-jeans and a sleeveless shirt, red bandana around his head. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and considered the shorter, muscular man who was still doubled-over; Mark’s eyes danced with mischievous laughter, and his mouth was wide in a Cheshire grin.

Ignoring the strain of his genitals, Hunter leapt up and lashed out, aiming to punch his boyfriend in the teeth, but Mark was fast for a man his size, and dodged, grabbing his boyfriend’s flying wrist and snapping up the other, holding them behind the struggling man’s back and forcing their bodies together where the big Texan could feel the stiff cock jab against his thigh. He looked down at his boyfriend and gave him a devious, pervy grin.

“God-damn you!” Hunter snapped, making Mark laugh loud and long.

“Thought you’d want some friendly encouragement before you went on; you did really well, kid.”

“Fuck you!” Hunter wrenched his arms away and stormed over to the other end of the spacious restroom, fuming as he paced like a trapped lion by the paper towels, limping a little as his cock still strained.

“Oh come on,” said Mark, rolling his eyes. “Yer not that mad.”

“I’m pretty damn pissed, actually!” Hunter snapped.

Mark did his best not to laugh – Hunter was indeed pissed, but the sight of him limping from his erection and knowing that he’d gotten his boyfriend good made it difficult. A fact that was not lost on the shorter man, and he threw himself against the tile wall and scowled up at the ceiling, his hands balled into fists; Mark snorted, Hunter’s dick was tenting the crotch of his pants – it just looked so funny because he was mad and trying so hard to keep his anger plain on his face. It didn’t work though, the blush on his face broke character, and Mark knew that was Hunter’s embarrassed blush, not his enraged blush – he could tell the difference by now. 

The poor, poor man. 

Still smiling and letting his quiet laughter run free, he beckoned to Hunter. “C’mere.”

Hunter crossed his arms over his chest and refused to move. Mark never lost his grin. The big Texan sauntered over to his boyfriend, swishing his hips and stopping only when they were so close Mark could feel his boyfriend’s breath on his chest and his cock against his thigh again; he was all but planting a kiss on the shorter man’s generous nose. Hunter didn’t drop his arms, but some of the scowl left his face.

“Did you really think I’d send all those texts just t’fuck with you?” Mark asked.

“Yes.”

Mark had the decency to look a little sheepish, but was still enough of an ass to look more pleased with himself. “Okay, I wanted t’mess with you, but what I meant was, did you think I wasn’t gonna deliver on those texts?” He smoothed over the lapel of Hunters’ suit. Hunter glanced down, feeling Mark’s hand slide down his body, while the other one lightly grasped his necktie, sliding up to the knot at his throat.

“Well?” Hunter said through gritted teeth. “I’m waiting.” 

Mark chuckled and went to kiss him, but Hunter turned away; the big man nodded, still smiling.

“I hear ya.” He said, “I earned that.” 

Instead of kissing his lips, he trailed over Hunter’s turned cheek with the tip of his nose; he gently kissed behind his boyfriend’s ear, feeling the telling tremor of pleasure he sent through Hunter, though the Northerner refused to acknowledge it. He did, however, uncross his arms and lower them, dropping his hands to the wall by his hips.

With unhurried pleasure, Mark lowered himself to his knees, his hands descending, smoothing over Hunter’s chest, belly and waist before going to his belt and zipper, undoing them both, and slipping his suit-pants and black boxer-briefs down to his knees. The Northerner felt air hit his stiff cock when he was pulled out and a relieved groan passed through his lips; at last, blessed freedom. He glanced down and saw his cock sticking straight out, longing to be rewarded by a touch; Mark eyed it like a cat that’s just sighted its next meal, a hungry grin spreading across his face and his clear eyes lighting up like sun-struck crystal. Mark looked up at him, bright-eyed and eager. 

“Make it good, Mark.” He demanded. The Texan smiled up at him, his canines lustrous.

“Yes sir.”

The Texan eased in, lips brushing Hunter’s exposed thigh, trailing up the side – a ticklish spot he had discovered a long time ago when they had first started dating, and felt the strong muscles twitch under his lips. He moved inward and nipped at the tender skin in the crease of his boyfriend’s groin, nuzzling his nose into the light brown pubic hair and inhaled, breathing his scent in deep. It was clean, but the sweat from his arousal brought out the slight musky tang that bit Mark’s nostrils. The big man shivered in delight, but restrained himself – he wanted to do a good job after all. 

He kissed the base of Hunter’s cock, forcing himself to go slow, his lips drifting up the shaft, planting another kiss halfway up. Mark’s facial hair tickled the sensitive skin and he felt Hunter’s hip buck just a little; he smiled and brushed his finger-tips up and down the warm flesh. 

Closing his thumb and forefinger into an ‘O’, Mark stroked him from base to head, tightening when he reached the top and loosening as he went back down; the younger man sighed and pistoned his hips, keeping the slow rhythm Mark had set up. He put his hands on Mark’s head, fingers weaving through the dyed black hair; the Texan planted a lingering kiss on the tip of the head, a bead of pre-cum lining his lips as they pressed against the warm skin. He slid his tongue over his lips; Hunter’s clean diet gave his cum a sweet flavor – they hadn’t made a candy yet that compared to it. Mark wanted more. 

His grip on Hunter’s shaft tightened into a fist, and he jabbed the tip of his tongue into the wrestler’s slit, tasting salt and sweetness for a brief moment before pulling back to rub the flushed head with his goatee, wiry hairs tickling and scratching over the highly-sensitive skin. He rubbed it in a circle from top to bottom, slicking his facial hair with pearly pre-cum; the Northerner let out a shrill gasp and his hand gripped Mark’s hair tight as the other scrabbled for purchase on the wall behind his head, his shivering legs were spread and his body arched out from the wall. 

Hunter’s lusty moans and sharp hisses echoed throughout the restroom, loud and proud – he couldn’t be bothered to keep his voice down. What the fuck did he care? When had he ever cared? This felt so damn good – no way in hell was he going to be silent about it. Besides, the more noise he made, the better Mark did.

“Ahhh…” He whined, tilting his hips up, begging for more when Mark took his hair away from his skin. He didn’t have long to wait before the Texan replaced his goatee with his soft lips. “Mmmm…Ooo, Mark – you’re so good, you’re so…AHHA!”

The Southerner had pulled his lips back from his teeth like a snarling animal and scraped both his bottom and top rows of teeth over Hunter’s weeping head, running them over the width to nick with his prominent canines. Hunter orgasmed in that moment, a dry orgasm; they’d worked together with diligence to reach the point where both of them could have multiple orgasms every time, and it was hard work that had paid off with interest every time. Before Hunter could come down from his thrill, Mark engulfed him, his mouth deep, his tongue stroking; he pulled back again to use his teeth on the head. Hunter’s knees almost gave way. 

Mark was done playing; he gripped his boyfriend’s hips and worked the younger man’s shaft hard; Hunter writhed against the wall, panting into his own hand, touching his own body, moaning as his mounting climax built up inside and bucking his hips. On the last withdraw, Mark pulled his lips back again and let his teeth scrape up the length of the shaft, and the resulting scream and milky wetness that filled his mouth let him know that he had exceeded expectation.

He sucked off the last of the cum and swallowed, licking his lips – Hunter’s healthy diet did wonders for his flavor; he kissed his boyfriend’s trembling waist and rose up, pulling the smaller, quaking man to him in an embrace. They stayed like that for a while until Hunter was able to stand on his own two wobbly legs without toppling.

“Y’forgive me?”

Hunter smiled into Mark’s shoulder. “You know I do.”

Mark smiled, tweaking the shorter man’s nose and grabbing a few paper towels before going to the sink to wet them for washing his face. He bent into the stream of water to wash out his goatee.

“I’m still a little embarrassed though.” Hunter admitted, joining him at the sink with his own paper towels, wetting them in warm water and cleaning up before tucking himself back in.

“Didn’t seem like anyone saw,” Mark said as he finished and dried his face on the hem of his shirt, treating Hunter to a glimpse of his solid belly. “I was watchin’ the crowd an’ it didn’t look like they noticed anythin’ but what you were sayin’.”

Hunter paused in checking his pants and suit-coat for stains – none. “Wait, you were in the back?”

“Yep.” Mark bent to wipe at a dark spot of cum that had transferred onto his thigh from their embrace, making the dark spot darker with his damp paper towel as he scrubbed, but at least now it just looked like a water-spot. 

“While you were texting me? Where?”

Mark gestured to the distance between them and the wall he had mouth-fucked Hunter against. “I was about that far away from you the whole time.”

“You ass!” He cried, throwing his crumpled paper towels at Mark’s face, but they both laughed; Hunter had to admit, his boyfriend had gotten him good this time.

When they were clean, presentable, and out of the restroom, Mark put his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder as they walked down the hall towards the parking lot – they’d give Vince a call, saying that Hunter had taken ill and hadn’t been able to help with the press after the presentation, Mark would vouch for his story. If Vince couldn’t trust the Undertaker, then who could he trust? 

They went outside to Hunter’s car; Mark had taken a cab. As his boyfriend reached for the door-handle, Mark covered Hunter’s mouth and twisted his head back; the smaller man’s cry was muffled against his palm. “Want you t’know I’m not done makin’ you moan yet, kid; I got us a hotel room and I’m itchin’ t’make good on the rest of those texts.” He pulled out his phone, pressed a button and made it vibrate; he laid it against the side of Hunter’s throat, the vibrating pulse sending tendrils of thrill throughout his body. Hunter sucked breath in through his nose with a hiss, his eyes shut and his brow furrowed as he tried to keep himself in check.

“Incoming call,” Mark whispered, and kissed Hunter’s temple, his lips lingering on the warm skin as the phone pulsed on.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a true story.  
> Sort of.  
> This happened to me, but it didn't get this far, unfortunately.  
> I was heading into work when I got the first text, and then they sexted me a few more times throughout the night while I was at work. It was kinda tough to concentrate.


End file.
